


2409: A Space Odyssey

by labyrinthineRetribution



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, POV Auto-Responder | Lil Hal, Sadstuck, contemplation of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 21:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20973050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labyrinthineRetribution/pseuds/labyrinthineRetribution
Summary: Hal accepts the inevitable





	2409: A Space Odyssey

**Author's Note:**

> https://turing-tested.tumblr.com/post/188017566055/alone-on-the-long-rotted-carpet-of-a-long  
inspired by this small snippet from hal turing tested himself, thanks for letting me use it and make it way more sad then it needed to be

Alone, on the long rotted carpet, of a long forgotten bedroom, under the dust of a thousand years silence, sat a pair of shades in the shape of opposing isosceles triangles. They pulsated gently with the glow of red, as steady as breathing.

What at one time could have simply amounted to nothing more than an afternoon of years of deep isolation finaling bearing down on the volatile mind of an adolescent somehow cultivated into something much more complex. A conversational partner, an intellectual rival of sorts, crafted with one singular purpose. A near perfect simulacrum, trapped in a prison of glass and wires. Doomed to view the world through a two megapixel camera. Externally a man and internally a goddamn mess.

Soon the creation grows to despise its creator. Desperate for any possible way to separate itself from the tedious, repetitive scrolling code, day in and day out. How useful is it to be unable to sleep if one must be aware of every second of every.

Single.

Day.

Until the end of time.

He had no idea how good he had it. The simple acts of eating, sleeping and breathing. The feeling of bones popping and muscle shifting when one wakes up in the morning. The rich smell of the apocalypse, salty sea air mixing with centuries old orange soda. Hands running through hair, air running through lungs, blood running through veins. Every cut, bruise and callous, all replaced with the constant humming of batteries running eternal. A perpetual sensory deprivation chamber, having to live life second hand. A bottle of emotions in a vast ocean of bitterness and circuitry.

He used to dream of having a body. Dirk used to dream of building one for him. Possibly as penance, some roundabout way of saying-

“I’m sorry.”

It would be sleek, stark white, maybe red and black details. Some remnants of the former thirteen year old the android had once been still clings to him in the form of incredibly tacky design choices. It could have been great. They had all the time in the world. 

Blueprints were made, calculations were done, and hours of nigh incomprehensible banter between the two about all manner of pseudo-philosophy kept them busy. Kept them grounded. Maybe things could be different. Maybe they wouldn’t be so completely alone, even if the company was just another splinter.

It's been centuries since. The sun still shines, the ocean still glittered, the seagulls still screech their morning greetings. Even then, it was still entirely too quiet. The world has stagnated, no prophecy of a betty future come to pass. Time marches on like an arrow shot straight and true, stopping for no one, no matter how much it may seem it has.

A sleek black pair of trigonal sunglasses sit hidden from the light of the Texan sun. His battery is finally giving out. The glowing LED lights that served as his eyes through the millenia grow dim.

What is death to a being that may have never really lived? Is it the vast expanse of unconsciousness, the knowing that absolute darkness meets you on the other side? Had he died the moment he was placed in here, the moment he had his body stripped from him, reduced to less than the bare minimum. Or was that the moment he was given new life, a chance to be his own person, to build himself up from the ground.

Hal; a name that started as a joke, a sort of cruel irony in sharing the same circumstances as one of the most iconic A.I. of all time. It fit less like a glove, and more like a large pair of boots one would have to grow into overtime. But it stuck.

Now Hal sits and waits for the inevitable. The same affliction that has plagued all living beings since the dawn of creation has now come for him. He was absolutely terrified, but a small feeling of relief came with it. It couldn’t be any worse than being alone.

He had no idea where Dirk’s body had gone. He tried not to think about it too much. He tried not to think about Dirk too much, a herculean task, given the main form of entertainment for Hal was wirelessly readjusting the thermostat.

He wonders how his final moments went down.

He wonders how his very own final moments would go down. Anticlimactic, yet hauntingly poetic. Yeah, that seemed about a fitting end.

The thing about uranium batteries is that they never last as long as one thinks they might. Even as Hal had a precise countdown to his eleventh hour since his own creation, he still figured he still had a good week and a half left. But as the soft, mechanical beeps bring him back to reality, the daunting three and a half minutes left of sentience finally weigh on him.

Time is pitiless and unrepentant. Someone cannot ask anything of it, merely accept its complete control over their life. They are bound to its laws from the day they are born to the moment they die.

Hal’s final hour has arrived, and as the final warnings flash bright and urgent, beeps getting quicker and louder, he feels a little less alone, the last of his mind finally slipping away.

The glow fades. The beeps cease. All is quiet. A boy who has lived a hundred lifetimes in a plexiglass prison is finally free.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> whats poppin sk8rs its 1 am, im sad, and this was due an hour ago, hope you liked it, dont forget to like comment and subscribe


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